Princess and the Rose
by xxNarielxx
Summary: (Silver Millennium) Some say love, it is a river. That drowns the tender reed. Some say love, it is a razor. That leaves your soul to bleed. Some say love, it is a hunger. An endless aching need. I say love, it is a flower... in the spring becomes the rose.
1. The Prince

Title: The Princess and the Rose.

Rating: M.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Sailor Moon franchise, nor do I own any of its characters.

Story will make some references to both English Anime' and Manga.

*Ring. Ring* Hey everyone. In celebration of 2014, I have released another story. So you know what to do, don't forget to leave a review...*beep*

**If this story seems famliar thats because it is my reworked story from my old account. :D**

**Much love xxNarielxx aka xx Twilight Princess xx**

* * *

*****oOo*****

**Chapter 1 – The Prince**

The young Prince stared out onto the battlefield, softly sighing in disbelief. The land before him was black and scorched; where death, evil and darkness choked everything in sight. A land where even the light itself seemed to be swallowed whole. The trees once covered in full, lush green leaves, now stood gnarly, twisted and deformed. The meadows that would have stretched for miles in all directions, covering the Kingdom in a fertile green carpet, now were too scorched and blackened. The smell of burning and death was strong making the air feel heavy and constricting.

This dead land is now all that once remained of the lush fields that covered the entire Elysion Kingdom.

A Kingdoms beauty and splendor he barely remembered at all.

The crunching of stones and leaf litter underfoot put the Prince on alert, like an animal grazing in the forest he was always weary of danger, the tiny hairs on his next stood upright as his fingers grazed the clasp of his sword by his side.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see someone approach behind him; a familiar sight the young Prince began to relax, if only for a moment. Lowering his hands once more down by his side. With nothing more than a cursory glance at the man who approached he took no notice and continued to stare intensely at the land in front of him. A breeze blew across the dusty landscape, ruffling his clothes and through his dark hair. Even the wind itself felt unnatural, like the chilling breath of winter was upon the land.

"Your Highness. The troops are in position and are awaiting your orders." A young but confident voice of a general addressed behind him, before saluting in the proper manner.

In front of him, the full army of the Negaverse stretched out for miles. An army of men and women, who once proudly served his Kingdom and his family, now stood against him. Who turned their backs on their own people and submitted into the servitude of the evil Queen Beryl. Seduced by her power and brainwashed into her army, they had lost all their free thought and will. They all bore the branding of the dark crescent moon on their foreheads. A further sign of their treachery.

"Sire?" The general questioned his Prince, walking up to him so he was standing next to his side.

The Prince said nothing and continued to stare out at the advancing Negaverse army. He could feel an evil presence drew near, a presence of pure darkness and evil that no words could ever properly describe.

"Do you remember? He began, not turning his attention from the battlefield below.

The General looked at him quizzically, not understanding the question. "Sir?"

The Prince didn't return the look. "Do you remember the way it used to be?" He calmly repeated his previous question, with sorrow and regret laced in his words.

"The way our Kingdom once was?

The general saluted, a proud, knowing smile beamed across his face. "Yes, Your Highness and it will be that way again. We have faith in you, and as the only living heir you will lead our troops to victory. You will avenge the death of your parents and will proudly take the throne and restore our Kingdom to greatness once more."

A contemplative silence hung in the air before the Prince turned away from his General and walked away from the rocky overlook and over to his troops in the valley below. For all his nineteen years of life he had been foretold of this day, that he would be the savior to his people as the only living heir it was his responsibility, and his alone, to see all this destruction undone. To see his family avenged, to restore his Kingdom to its former glory.

The fact was that he was fighting for a Kingdom that had long lost its beauty and power, vengeance for parents that memories barely remained of, sent away as a young boy to live on the furthest reaches of his Kingdom; raised in the arts of fighting, diplomacy and war. So that he, one day, would have the strength, courage, wisdom and ability to lead his army, an army of the last remaining free men and women of Elysion, to reclaim his Kingdom and drive out the evil taint of Queen Beryl and the Negaverse.

He paused, still some distance from the horde of his army and for a moment his eyes began to glaze with tears, looking at his army prepare, brought back reminders of painful memories. But almost as soon as they appeared, they were gone. The Prince had blinked the tears away and held his strong, stoic bearing once more.

* * *

*****Flashback*****

The Prince paused, hearing raised voices coming from the adjoining room. The memories usually were fuzzy at best, as the years of battle and death had long fogged his memory of times before the war. But this was clear. He stood in front of the oak door a lot bigger than he was normally accustomed to, quickly realizing he had become a child once more. Running his tiny fingers over the wood grain he could actually feel, in his minds eye, the bumps and imperfections of the door, even eyeing a dent where someone had kicked it in a bout of rage, perhaps because he had been sent to bed without any supper for as punishment for bad behavior.

Clasping the golden door handle he softly, but filmy pushed the large door open. Inside was a bedroom, two people inside, unaware of his presence in the doorway began to argue. As the argument continued their voices became louder, his mother was crying while his father paced up and down the room, gripping his dark hair in frustration.

"No my husband; please, I beg you. Why must we do this? He is our son; he's just a little boy…We can't just send him away." The Queen pleaded through her sobs with her husband, tears continued to fall freely falling on her satin nightgown.

"We have no choice," The King was quick to reply, looking at solemnly his wife, crushed by her pained expression across her face. "He is our son; the heir to the throne…he…he must be protected in case we fail. Already there have been reports of traitors that have joined their ranks, and I fear the longer we delay the more will join. We have to confront this enemy soon, and it is not safe for him to be here any longer."

"But you are asking me to send away our only son. I am his Mother how can you expect me to do that?" She looked away from her husband; wrapping her arms around herself as tears that threatened to fall now freely fell down the her face.

The King walked over to his wife, placing his hands gently on her shoulders he turned her around so she was facing him. She refused to meet his gaze even as he placed a thumb on her face and wiped away the tears. "This is not forever my love. We will not fail; I have great faith in our people. Our army is strong, we will defeat this evil. When it is safe we will send for him to return…I promise you."

The Queen looked up with her tear filled eyes to meet her husbands, opening her mouth to reply, the voice of the small boy's voice interrupted from behind her and gave her reason to pause.

"Mother?"

"Oh, my darling boy." The Queen looked at her son, desperate to hold back the tears that threatened to fall once again. She couldn't cry, not in front of her son. She had to be strong for him. "Come here."

The young Prince moved from the doorway, where he was standing, and walked over to his parents, stopping in front of his Mother, he looked upon her with a worried gaze.

"Why are you crying, Mother?"

"Oh?" The Queen quickly wiped the tear stains away from her face and kneeled down, so she could look her son in the eyes. "I'm not crying sweetheart. Your father and I have been talking, we need you to do something for us and be a brave boy; can you do that?"

He quickly nodded, his young eyes filled with such enthusiasm and excitement. "I'm strong and brave Mother. I can do anything, I am not afraid of anything."

The Queen smiled proudly, her heart swelled as she looked at her son with adornment. "Yes…Yes you are. You are growing up so fast. Can you…Can you promise your father and I one thing?"

The Prince nodded again.

"Promise me, that no matter what happens; you will remember that your father and I love you very much.

"I promise."

The Queen lovingly hugged her son, whispering softly in his ear. The Prince returned the gesture, burying his face deep, feeling safe for the first time in years. Letting his all scenes fill with the warmth and love of his Mother's embrace. Here in her arms there was nothing to fear, no reason to be afraid. There was only love, love that made his heart ache from the painful memory, realizing just how alone and vulnerable he truly was.

"We will always love you… Darien." Her voice rang true in his ears and for the first time, in a long time, he was home.

*****End Flashback*****

* * *

Prince Darien stopped in front of his army of ten thousand strong men and women; against uncountable numbers of Negaverse soldiers. They were outnumbered and they all knew it, it was written clear across their faces; the looks of despair, hopelessness and sorrow.

Weaving through the myriad of passageways and corridors of tents, weapon stands and animal pens. Darien knew that he had to say something, anything to lift moral. The General that he spoke to before once again came and stood beside him, quickly steeping to one side, he narrowly avoiding two squealing children that ran past in a game of tag.

"My Lord, they believe in you."

Darien sighed in disbelief watching the two children play. Envious of a child's youth and innocence, as they picked up two sticks and began to play swordfight. The weight of this war had weighed on him heavily, and aged him so. A childhood that was cruelly ripped away from him he was forced to act and think like a man, a general long before his time. How many mothers mourned the loss of their children, couples left widowers, fathers burring their sons all because of him and his orders on the battlefield?

"Do they?"

"My Lord we know you can do this." The solider voice rang clear and true, his heart held no doubts, even if his Lords was weighed down heavily by them, crushing him like a pile of stone.

"What is your name solider?"

"Foreman, Andrew Foreman, Sire."

Darien turned his head to look at the solider properly. Andrew was a tall young man and looked around about the same age. Andrew's striking features, blonde hair and green eyes made him an easy person to recognize and remember. Although Darien had never met him till this moment, he knew of him; the young soldiers' bravery and reputation precede him, enough to even reach the ears of his Prince.

A new recruit in the Elysion army, Andrew rose through the ranks quickly, gaining the reputation of a trustworthy, strong, brave, loyal solider that acted as much as a big brother then a general to many of the soldiers. He disciplined his troops but never belittled them. Believing strongly in his Prince and their cause, possible more so than Darien did himself.

"Andrew, why do you believe so? What have I done to inspire so much faith in my people?"

Andrew turned to look his Prince squarely in the eye. "Permission to speak freely, Sire?"

Darien nodded, folding his arms across his broad chest as Andrew continued.

"You are the son of a great King and will be a great King yourself. You may not believe it but we have all seen it. Your skill with a blade is unmatched; you have led us to countless victories. Every man and woman here owes you their lives in some way. They will be proud one day to call you King. I too owe you my life; you lead the army to take back my village that was occupied by the Negaverse. I owe you not only my life, but the life of my family as well. I am proud to serve you my Lord and after today, after thirteen long years of war, the Negaverse will be finally defeated. We will all be free."

Darien turned from Andrew and looked once again at his troops who formed the Elysion army; once the strongest and most feared militaristic force on Earth.

Founded by Darien's Great Great-Grandfather; the army was formed of noble knights from across the Kingdom. They were highly trained elite soldiers, who put aside any differences they had to come together to repel an invading barbarian horde from the Northern borderlands of the Kingdom. The horde was crushed and the land was joined to the Elysion, creating a Kingdom that spanned the four comers of the Earth; and a peace that lasted generations.

The bright steel battle breastplates, with the insignia of the Elysion Kingdom, were once the stuff of fable. Legends wrote of an army where the sun would shine off every soldier, blinding his foe. They looked as if sent from the heavens themselves, an army that knew no fear, which was unmatched in both skill and discipline.

Although each solider donned the same battle breastplate and proudly wore the crest of the Kingdom, a single Red Rose that symbolized the greatness, power and beauty of the Earth. The shine of the armour was long gone; replaced with dirt and blood of countless battles past. Each man and woman has seen so much pain and death in the thirteen years of occupation by the Negaverse army.

Today, in this last pocket of the Elysion Kingdom, their army, led by the last living member of the royal bloodline, would make one final stand.

The army fell silent as they all turned to look at their Prince. Dressed in black tunic, pants and leather boots was the typical attire of members of a noble household. Black was worn by young nobles of the Elysion Kingdom as it was considered exceptionally fashionable in the past. To maintain some degree of the old customs and traditions from the glory days of the Kingdom was important for preserving the moral of the troops.

Over the top of his clothing he too donned the steel breastplate of his troops, but did not bare the crest of the Red Rose. Instead; his armour was stained black with silver embellishment, made exactly to fit and lightweight as possible, to allow no restriction in movement when fighting in the closeness and heat of battle. Over his shoulders sat steel shoulder guards and clipped to them, draping down his back, a long black cape flowed with a striking red underneath.

Tied around his waist and hanging down his left side was his double edged long sword, sheathed into its scabbard. A sword crafted from the finest steel, sharpened and polished to perfection. The hilt was crafted from solid gold and in the middle of the hilt was engraved an image of a rose. This sword had been passed down the generations of Royal Elysion Family.

Darien stood in front of his troops, silently inspecting each one of them that stared back at him. He held an air of authority around his troops, every solider respected him, his voice carrying the confidence and supremacy befitting of a Prince.

"I look at you all..." The Prince sternly began. "and I see it in your eyes, you are afraid of what is to come…I will not lie to you, out there is an army of men and women that you were once proud to call friends, neighbours, your fellow Elysion's. But NO more, they have chosen their fates; they chose to turn their backs on us, submitting to the evil and power of Queen Beryl. They are cowards! They are not worthy of your pity, they are not worthy of fear, for it is _they_ who should fear you."

Darien began pacing up and down, past the troop lines. His intense, firm gaze held the full attention of every soldier looking his way, some even nodding in silent agreement at their Prince's words.

"You are my fellow brothers and sisters in arms." He boldly continued. "You fight for reasons that they could never possibly understand. You fight for your Kingdom, your fight for your families. You fight so that ONE day you will tell your children, and grandchildren, that on THIS day; like the great Elysion's of the past, you gave blood, sweat and tears to allow a time to exist where we will no longer live in fear; where each man and woman is proud to be a Elysion once more; Where a peace that once existed for generations _will_ exist AGAIN!"

Darien unsheathed his sword from the scabbard and raised it above his head.

"We will NOT surrender! We WILL fight until our dying breath; Queen Beryl and her army WILL FALL here today!"

"FOR OUR FREEDOM! FOR ELYSION!"

"ELYSION!" The troops cried out in unison.

* * *

Rain began to pour down onto the battlefield; almost as if to wash away the filth of battle that was strewn across the field. The sound of the battle was deafening, the air was filled with the sounds of metal clashing on metal, cries of defiance, screams of pain and agony. The death toll on both sides was high. Darien had lost count of how many soldiers he had killed, his skin, hair and armour was stained with blood, no longer able to determine what was his and what belonged to his vanquished foes.

"KEEP FIGHTING! WE WILL NOT SUCCUMB TO HER EVIL AND DARKNESS!" Darien yelled above the deafening noise of the battle. He could barely hear himself think as the air was filled with the sound of weapons clashing, scraping of metal on metal, the cries of defiance, mixed with the screams of pain and silence of death.

Darien quickly turned and barely parried a sword attack, which surely would have taken off his head had he not intervened.

The two warriors from opposing sides glared at each other; their swords firmly locked together in a tight duel as neither gave in; pushing against each other's strength, with as much muscle as they could muster of their own.

The Negaverse solider smiled, his dark, evil smile sent a twinge of fear up the Elysion Prince's spine.

"You are strong little Earth Prince; but you will never stop the dark power of our Queen." He mocked.

Darien didn't answer; he pulled back, allowing his sword to come free. Raising his free hand he punched the solider hard across the face, the solider staggered a few steps backwards from the sheer force of the hit. In that same moment the Prince tightened his grip on his sword, and with both hands firmly holding his weapon, swung it with all his might, cleaving the soldier's head clean from his neck.

Darien staggered back, exhausted, falling down onto one knees. He didn't know how much longer he could keep fighting; and it had felt he had been fighting forever. His entire body ached; nothing in his training had ever prepared him for this. Gasping breathlessly he looked around the battlefield. The force of the Negaverse seemed endless; almost as if to spawn from the very ground itself. For every one killed, another seemed to rise and take its place, sustained by a dark and evil magic. His troops fought bravely but even they could not fight forever.

"My Lord!" A concerned voice cried over the noise of the battle.

Darien turned to the source of the voice and recognized who it was. Andrew, now standing over him, extended his hand in a silent gesture and helped his Prince to his feet.

He gave him a silent nod of acknowledgement before returning to the battle.

* * *

The rain finally stopped, but the clouds still lingered, though that brief respite, from an unknown source an unnatural dark fog began to slowly creep up, snaking across the battlefield

Suddenly the conflict stopped. Darien, Andrew and all the other soldiers each stopping in amazement as every Negaverse solider lowered their weapons and began to back off; disappearing into the dark fog that now encompassed the battlefield. Soon, only the surviving members of the Elysion army remained standing on the battlefield.

Andrew was the first to speak, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. "We have done it your Highness! We have won!"

A roar of cheers and cries of elation emerged from the tired and battered troops; soldiers yelled in excitement, hugging and crying, for they had finally won. They were free.

Sheathing his bloodied sword and wiping the blood off his face with the back of his hand, Darien looked cautiously at his surviving soldiers as they began to congratulate one other. A feeling of unease still lingered in the air; the strong feelings of worry and doubt would not leave him, slowly eating away. He was not filled with conviction like the rest.

_This is not the end_. He thought scanning across the horizon, looking for any hidden dangers in the blackness of the fog. His hand casually resting on the hilt of his sheathed sword; ready for him to spring into action at any sign of movement.

The cheers and elation began to die down as each solider in turn began to notice a shadowy figure approaching towards them, almost seeming to melt out of the fog itself.

The sound of mock applauding echoed around the battlefield. "Bravo... You have all fought so valiantly. A pity; you all would have been a fine addition to my army. But alas now you must die."

Silence now covered the battlefield as a woman appeared from the fog. Darien felt his heart tighten in his chest; he could feel the raw power and sheer evil emanating from her. He didn't need clarification; he knew exactly who it was by her reputation alone.

His soldiers diligently watched as their Prince confidently walked up towards the unknown woman. Darien stepped over bodies and through the blood and grime of the battlefield until he came within a few feet of her. Now for the first time in his life, he could put a face to the name he had heard whispered all his life, a name the summarized everything evil in the world, a name that always made his blood boil in rage.

"Queen Beryl."

Beryl's dark eyes watched with great interest the solider that approached; her red lips twisting into amused smile. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

"I am Prince Darien." He boldly replied as his hand gripped the sword hilt tighter. "You have lost Beryl. Surrender or be destroyed."

Beryl laughed as she pushed back her long hair off her shoulders. "Prince Darien…I see. My, my, you are a fine male specimen indeed. You know, I have always been looking for someone worthy to be by my side."

She extended her pale, thin arm with her hand outwards in friendly gesture. "Join me Prince Darien and I will give you power and riches beyond your wildest dreams. Join me, and we will rule this planet and the Universe together as King and Queen."

"I will never submit to your evil!" Darien retorted in defiance.

Beryl hissed in fury. "FOOL! THEN YOU WILL DIE! YOU WILL ALL DIE!"

She clapped her hands together and the fog around her instantly dissipated. In her clasped hands a large black orb began to form.

Darien quickly unsheathed his sword. "Attack her! Destroy her evil!" He demanded his troops.

The soldiers obediently unsheathed their weapons at the command and began to charge towards her. Darien too began to advance forward.

But before he could even take more than a few steps, Beryl opened her arms wide unleashing the full power of the orb; creating a massive black shock wave that tore through the Elysion troops. Screams of pain and agony reverberated around the battlefield as men and women were thrown like rag dolls back across the battlefield.

Darien tried to hold his ground but the power was too much, he too was knocked from his feet and thrown across the battlefield. Thrown with such force, his body was slammed hard into a dead tree. He slumped to the ground with a brief cry of pain. His vision began to falter; unable to fight against it longer darkness finally consumed him and he saw no more.


	2. Aftermath

**A/N: Thank you Moonprincess998, Guest (1), Serena (2), LoveInTheBattleField, Chiyo Hamasaki and Starrlight1812 ****for your reviews**

**Big hugs to you all :D**

* * *

*********oOo*****

**Chapter 2 – Aftermath**

**Andrew's POV**

_Nothing…_

_That's the only way I can describe the sensation I am feeling. Feeling of just nothingness…_

_They say when you are about to die you see a white light, a tunnel and your life flashes before your eyes._

_You look back on the moments that made you smile, made you cry, your triumphs and your failings_

_You have done all you can. There is nothing more to say, nothing you can do._

_The overwhelming sensation of calm as the last breath leaves your now forever still body. There is no more pain, no suffering. You are forever at peace, content that your mark, however small on this Earth will not be forgotten, but will live on in some way. Through the teachings to your children, the memories in your loved ones, friends and colleagues._

_Then is this it…the last moment before my end? What will be my mark left when I am gone…? Will I just be forgotten…?_

I breathe out loudly, content to just let go. My warm breath mixing with the coolness of the air. The dew licks the tiny cuts and abrasions on my lips and I feel a slight sting.

_No, it feels too real. To imperfect to be the realm of the dead. _

I can feel my body slowly register the hard earth beneath me. The air, thick with the smells of smoke and ash. Of blood and death.

The ground, strewn with the lifeless bodies of solders, of men and women those who only moments before had stood and fought beside me.

I lie perfectly still, gazing upwards at the twilight hues of the sky as the sun begins to fade. For what seems like an eternity, basking in the silence of the battle that raged only moments before. The evil Queen, large black orb racing towards us, cutting through us easily like a rock breaking the still calm waters of a lake.

It was only then, as I continued to lay there on the blackened earth, that the feelings of a mortal man returned to me.

The feelings of grief, anger, hopelessness and pain. A caldron of emotions boiling inside that my training of a solider would normally quell. My mind would buzz with the barked instructions of my superior officers not to show weakness in the eyes of the enemy. But today there words are silent in my mind, and I am too tired to care.

My ears ring a deafening high pitched tone as I slowly struggle to my feet. It seems my fate is not to be shared with my fellow comrades lying around me. Glassy dead eyes gazing upwards at the same sky. They are frozen in time, striking their final pose before they died, mercifully I pray.

My vision, fuzzy and blurred left me feeling sick and disorientated. I was unsure if I had struck my head in any way, from the battle or was it during the fall, it's hard to think. My skull feels like it has been squeezed in a vice, the slightest thought stabs my mind like tiny shards of glass.

Pulling off the constricting metal helmet, there is a slight reprieve to the pain in my head before I lower it slowly down to eye level, seeing the reflection of my face in the polished steel. Half of me wonders if I truly wished to see what reflected back. The other half, the solider, knew I needed to assess my injuries, treat if possible, avoid infection and get back up as soon as possible, ready for the next fight.

I don't think there will be another fight. At least for me.

The cuts and abrasions on my lips are soon the least of my concerns. The left side of my face was almost indistinguishable through the dried, thick ooze of dark, red blood from the large gash on my forehead. That had rolled down my face, falling onto my armor, mixing in with the stains of the battles blood and grime. As it drew my attention downwards I felt a cold wash of dread deep within my bones. Lying hidden along my right side was a large fresh bloodstain. Perhaps it was due to the shock of my predicament that had escaped my notice until now.

Foolishly I quickly unbuckle my armor to assess my injury, letting it fall to the ground with a clatter. Instantly I cry out in pain as without the constraints of my armor the wound was now free to bleed unhindered. Even with my hand pressed firmly against it trying to stanch the bleeding, it wasn't long before my fingers were covered in the sticky, warm liquid, forming large droplets they stain the ground red around my feet.

Shock and pain continue to sap my strength with a muffled cry I fall down to one knee. The wound is deep and evidently fatal. I have several minutes if the gods are willing, until I will lack the most basic strength in my body.

But I was spared, I was given this one last fleeting moment, upon the charred remains of the Earth, to accomplish one final task. With resolve I slowly rose to my feet, as if the gods had whispered it in my ear I suddenly knew what that task was.

Pressing as much strength as I can spare into my hand, I slow the bleeding enough that I am at least able to stager across the remnants of the battlefield. Unable to take a step without stepping over bodies, both friend and foe alike.

Muffled, dying cries could be heard from the few remaining troops; of pain, help and mercy. I cannot help them. They look up at me with bloody, broken bodies, raising their hands into the air, softly calling out my name as I walk on by without a word. It tears at my heart to have leave them to their fate.

Around the battlefield dark figures moved, like shadows, with speed they almost appear to float from body to body, checking for any signs of life. They could only be the few stragglers of Negaverse troops who had be forced behind from the rest of the main army to cut down the few remaining Elysions that refused to join in one final act of defiance.

By luck or divine intervention, I was unsure which, they had yet to spot my slow movements across the field. I could only pray, as I continued to move through the maze of bodies, that the target I seek had not been noticed either. Or using up the last remnants of my strength would have all been in vain.

I feel so cold, colder than the evening air around me as I continue to trudge forwards. My weakening legs wobble and I stumble. With no time to brace myself I end up with a face full of dirt and water, a sharp ache from the impact that seems to ignite every cell in my body with overwhelming pain.

As I slowly raise my head I am met with a pair of dark eyes in the reflection of the puddle. A large raven has perched itself on top of a body of solider. The bird meets my gaze for a moment in the reflection of the pool, the murky water stained with a mixture of dirt and blood. My stomach lurches and I quickly look away as the bird pecks and claws at its unfortunate victim, proudly holding the ligaments of an eye dangling from its beak. With a loud caw it flies off with its prize into the direction of the setting sun.

Out of the corner of my eye I see it, another dark raven circling above. Within seconds it lands on another victim. Following it with my gaze my stomach churns once again, not for the raven but its quarry of choice.

His face, his armor are easily recognizable even hidden amongst the bodies.

The rage boiled inside and within seconds I was on my feet.

"Get away from him." I snarl. My throat is dry and my voice little more than a whisper. But the sudden noise and my approach was enough to frighten the bird. The ravens gaze was quick to find mine, with a startled squawk it quickly took flight.

"My Lord!" Gasping as I am only able to use one hand to move away the bodies of my fellow comrades, sapping even more precious strength I continue to work until his body is completely free before collapsing down to my knees beside him.

Through the blood and grime it's hard to assess his injuries. _Please be alive_. I silently pray over and over as I press my fingers gently against the skin of his neck. My heart leaps in joy and I release a breath I didn't even know I was holding as I feel the familiar sensation of blood pulsing through veins in rhythm to his heartbeat.

Lowering my face above his own I feel his breath against the warmth of my flushed cheek, the slow rise and fall of his chest. Alive, but he was weak.

Like myself he too had been spared, and if I had the time and the strength I would have shouted my praise to the heavens themselves for sparing his life. But I had neither of these things, and with another sharp pain racing through my body my mind was quick to refocus onto my wounded Lord beside me.

With great care I cradle his body in my arm, supporting him upright as I removed the clasps of his breastplate, letting the bloodied armour fall to the ground beside me. His undershirt was torn, stained only with the blood from the large gash on his brow. But thankfully the wound was not deep nor fatal, and with only my gaze to quickly assess, I can see little other injuries on his body. If it wasn't for the graveyard strewn around me it would have been easy to assume that a fight had not taken place at all. That the blow was nothing more than an accident from a training bout, and I would soon have to severely discipline the wayward solider for wounding our Liege before the battle had even take place.

It was incredible that our Prince, who had been at the forefront when Queen Beryl attacked, was practically unharmed. That somehow he had received a blow that would have felled any other man was alive, unconscious, but alive.

_How did he survive?_ I could only ask myself amazement, looking down at the weak form of my Prince still cradled in my arm.

_Perhaps it…_A sudden thought whipped itself across my mind, though surely it couldn't have been possible. But with little other explanation I could only conclude that…

"S-sir? Are you alright?" A soft voice queries from behind my back. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end as I prepare to fight.

Instantly a surge of adrenaline courses through my blood as I ignore my pain and clasp the hilt of sword with my hand. My heart beats faster in trepidation as I know I have been cornered and like any animal backed into a wall will bear my teeth and not go down without a fight.

"You will not have him. Negaverse scum!" With a growl and clenched teeth I unsheathing my sword and swing it around my side, pivoting on the spot, careful not to injure the Prince, I lunge at my attacker.

With a startled cry my assailant quickly jumped back from the swords reach, the point barley missing his stomach as he looks at me with a mixture of equal parts outrage and startled disbelief.

"Sir- don't attack, it's me…Sir."

For a moment I was too puzzled to even fully process what was going on, my heart pounded hard within my chest and the roar of blood in my ears was deafening. Slowly I lower my hand and without taking my eyes off this newcomer I sheathed my sword back into the scabbard.

Lowering the body of my Lord gently back onto the ground, my gaze slowly traveled upwards as my still rattled brain tried to process all I can about this newcomer. His armor was Elysion, through still thoroughly immaculate considering the carnage all around. His brown held no mark of a Negaverse solider, though rumors had spread of Negaverse spies that had been caught displaying no insignia, did little to calm my nerves.

Hidden under armor that looked three sizes to big I could assess he was short, the way he stuttered his words, his hand shaking as he slowly lowered his sword, he had a weakling constitution. He didn't look like he belonged on either side of the warring factions. In fact he looked like a typical green recut, I would normally spend weeks whipping into shape before they even smelled a battle, let alone stood in the remnants of one.

As he slowly removed his helmet, I could see his face more fully. With short mousey brown hair, beady eyes and a baby faced look, he looked no older than fourteen. A child amongst men.

"Solider!" I barked asserting my rank and authority. I was in solider mode once more, although this boy had yet to attack I was still wary and despite my injuries would not go down without a fight.

"Identify yourself!"

The young solider quickly sheathed his sword and saluted in response. "My name is Butlers, Melvin Butlers." His actions held true of a typical Elysion solider, though his goofy mannerism eluded it.

"Melvin." I queried out loud as I rose to my feet, cringing through another sharp pain. "What is the oath?"

He looked at me for a moment as if I had suddenly grown a second head, though with everything else that had happened today perhaps that wasn't in the realm of impossibility.

"The oath?" He parroted my question in response and I was quickly running out of patience. I needed to know for sure if he was Elysion. Only a true Elysion would know the oath, and no Negaverse spy would ever pry those words from one of our soldiers lips.

"The oath, Butlers. I want the oath of Elysion!"

He took a moment in composure, which felt like an eternity in the silence of the battlefield, before he spoke.

"…Though war and death may take their toll, the Rose of Elysion will never fall."

Word for word perfection was music to my ears, I would not have to dirty my sword with the blood of this solider. He was a true Elysion and I could relax, if only for a moment. A niggling question still lingered in the back of my mind that demanded an answer.

"Where were you during the battle?"

Melvin cringed under my harsh gaze and hung his head in shame, his voice was soft and meek. "I'm sorry Sir. I don't like the sight of blood."

I scoffed in disdain and needed no further explanation. It was clear this man was a coward and did not participate in the battle. He had no doubt hid when the fighting had begun. Leaving his fellow brothers and sisters to die. His sword arm could have saved lives, or at least have been cannon fodder to draw the enemy's attention.

Melvin's gaze was quick to find mine once more, he stood tall, quickly saluting once again. "I saw it Sir, I saw the Prince fall and I thought I could help."

Had this been any other battle I would have disciplined this solider, forcing him to a week of manual labor as for punishment for his cowardice, but this was not the time, I needed to get our Prince away from here. I knew that if they found our Prince alive they would either kill him for defying their Queen, or brainwash him to be nothing more than a pawn in Beryl's hands.

I would not let either of the two outcomes occur. Another pang of pain and my strength waned, the edges of my vision began to darken and I knew I was running out of time.

And right now I would take all the help he could get.

I turned back to my Lord and gently lifted one of his arms over his shoulders, supporting the Prince's bodyweight onto my shoulder.

"Melvin!"

Melvin did not needed to be asked twice, within two strides we was by my side, quickly lifting up the Prince's other arm, draping it across his shoulders. Through the height discrepancy supporting put immense strain on my weakening body. The Prince did not move, still unconscious his head hung loosely, his body slumped forward across our two shoulders as we held him firmly upright in our grasp

"Where are we taking him Sir?" Melvin enquired, adjusting the Prince's arm on his shoulder. Clearly struggling holding his greater weight.

That was an excellent question and I had to think long and hard for an answer. Looking at the carnage of the last defense of Elysion I knew there was no one on Earth who could help us now, the Prince's only chance now was to find aid off world.

A soft light glowed in the corner of my eye and I found myself turning attention upwards, towards the sky.

The stars were beginning to appear in the dim, twilight sky, but more importantly the Moon now too appeared. A large, white, bright sphere that bathed the battlefield under the fading sunlight.

Melvin looked up, towards at the same direction, understanding my silent resolution his eyes widened in shock.

"But Sir, we can't take him _there_." He protested, waving his free arm widely in protest. "No Earthling has stepped foot there for generations, the stories about the Lunarians-"

"Right now we have no other options." I was quick to interrupt him. "They have the ability to help him. Hopefully, they will not recognize him." My firm tone left no room for argument, it was a rash decision but with the shadow Negaverse troops moving ever closer, and my wound continuing to sap my strength I no longer had the luxury of time to ponder another.

We began to move as quickly as possible, half dragging, half carrying our injured Prince away from the battlefield, before anyone noticed our movements.

"And if they do?" Melvin queried, struggling to keep the Prince upright with my hurrying movements.

I didn't answer him. Truly, I had no answer to give.

"Sir…?"

My mind was running at a hundred miles an hour formulating a passage for our Prince off world. Most of the transport stations had been disused for centuries and only rumors circulated of their apparent locations. Usually I paid little heed to the gossip of the troops, but for once I was thankful that overhearing one particular conversation that a transport station was nearby, only a few minutes travel. But with my injuries and our Prince the journey would take a lot longer than anticipated. I could only pray that our movements would be unnoticed and by some divine luck we could get this station to work.

"Quickly! There is a disused transport station near here we need to get him to it. He won't last much longer."

Our fate was in the gods hands now. I just hoped they were not in a vengeful mood.

* * *

"What a piece of junk…Sir."

And I had to agree. Coming over the small incline the confidence of my plan hit rock bottom as I eyed the abandoned station.

The transport was barely visible through the dense maze of overgrown foliage and undergrowth. As we approached Melvin began to remove some of the larger plants and slowly a large glass chamber with two glass doors at the front began to appear. There was some craved inscription above the door, written in a language that was foreign to either of us. The station was old, very old. Perhaps it had been unused for millennia. It was also small, only wide enough to transport one person at a time. Next to the transport, I pushed back some dead growth to find a control panel, weathered from time, but perhaps still useful.

Slowly and gently I placed our unconscious Prince on the ground, his back leaning against the transport glass doors, before eyeing the control panel more closely. The power it once had was clearly gone, the knobs, levers and console screens were all dead from lack of power. There was a small slot on the side on the panel for some sort of object, perhaps that which powered the station.

Before I could study this further ever cell in my body ignited once again from pain. Clutching my side I staggered and fell, barely catching the transport panel in time. My hand was now soaked with fresh blood as I had torn open the wound from the fall. Waves of light headiness and nausea as I struggled to remain conscious. If I fell asleep now, truly, I would never awaken.

Melvin looked at me worryingly, abandoning his work on the station he was quick to return to my side. "Sir? Are you-?" He paused, eyes wide noticing the blood down my side that even I could no longer hide.

"Sir! I can help, just let me-"

My fall had evidently cut what little time I had left, and although Melvin was only trying to help I felt his time should be spent helping our Prince and not worrying about me.

"Never mind me Melvin!" I growled in frustration, pushing myself upright using the console for support. "Find a way to make this work solider. That is an order!"

If Melvin was hurt from my harshness and cold manner he hid his emotions well like a true solider. He quickly returned to the station, pulling open a metal panel he began fiddling and tweaking with the various wires and buttons that would have made my mind throb from the mental strain.

"Do you know how to get this thing to work?" I groaned through the pain. Of course I half expected Melvin to say no and we would be spending precious little time we had left trying to figure out how to work a technology that has not been used in a time the gods only knew.

"Yes Sir!" Melvin proudly boasted, placing the panel back before moving to another consol. He worked quickly, like a bee to a flower, he darted back and forth. Constantly pushing and pressing buttons and pulling levers from various panels in a process I could never hope to explain.

"I happen to be an expert in all forms of technology."

I would have laughed if he had the strength. Of all the people to survive the battle I found the one with the knowledge on how to make a generations year old technology work.

Melvin began work immediately. Through a process that Andrew could not explain, in no time at all he had the machine working proper

"I have rerouted auxiliary power to the primary junction facility, which will boost the secondary field grid unit leading to the dampening temporal-" He hurriedly explained, making my head ache from the information overload

"In English, Melvin. Please." I groaned, needing it in more simplistic terms.

"Sir, the machine has power." He calmly explained, fidgeting with his hands, evident he had more to say but was reluctant to elaborate.

"But...?"

"But, there is only enough stored power left to take one person…and only one way."

I gazed at our unconscious Prince, lying still against the glass doors. All my training had finally come down to this one moment; too die in service, valiantly protecting our Prince to the last. I could no longer help him, Melvin could no longer help him, his fate now rested in whatever the universe had planned for him.

I had played my part in this play, it was time to exit stage left.

"Our lives don't matter Melvin...only his."

But I had a feeling that whatever destiny had planned, it would be grand and forever shape the fate of our world.

"Hey!" A voice shouted in the distance. My blood froze in my veins as two Negaverse soldiers had somehow followed us and began to advance quickly. The polished steel of their swords reflected in the moonlight as they unsheathing their weapons.

"Now you die!" Bellowed one of the Negaverse soldiers as he lunged to strike. I staggered to the side as the metal ricocheting with the panel sending him staggering backwards.

The other began to approach the station. Melvin stood paralyzed from fear as the solider got ever closer. I could not help, dodging another blow I could only do what I did for any solider who was struck by fear.

"MELVIN, GET THE DOORS OPEN! NOW!"

My words had worked, Melvin jumped from the shock and back into life. Ignoring the approaching enemy he quickly rushed to the panel, seconds later the transport doors glided open and Melvin, using all his strength, dragged the Prince into the transport, stepping out himself before the doors closed. The transport hummed and a bright, white glow appeared inside the transport. Melvin covered his eyes.

The brightness quickly faded and Prince Darien was gone.

_They say when you are about to die you see a white light, a tunnel and your life flashes before your eyes._

_You look back on the moments that made you smile, made you cry, your triumphs and your failings_

_You have done all you can. There is nothing more to say, nothing you can do._

I was at peace with the world as I fell, my weakened body finally gave in. My sword hit the ground with a clatter before my body collapsed beside it. I gasped from the shock.

_What will be my mark left when I am gone? _

I had done everything I could. I smiled as my assailant as he stood over me, drawing his sword high above his head. There was a moment of pure calm, like the eye within a storm.

"FOR ELYSION!"

Around me I heard the cry of a warrior as Melvin had uncharacteristically charged himself into battle. I was proud, his one last act of bravery and defiance, a true Elysion before the end.

With one final blow, my enemy struck. His sword dug deep…before I saw no more.

_Will I just be forgotten…?_


End file.
